Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween! It's Heeeerrrre!

Yep, at last The Vampire Viscount is available as an ebook. It's been a long time since that book has seen light (so to speak) and as I went through it to clean out the OCR scan errors, I remembered it was controversial at the time (1995), and now we have vampires and werewolves everywhere, but I think it still holds up as a decent story.

 It's free, today only, at Smashwords.  And since I also honor All Saints Day (the day after Halloween), you can still get it free on that day, too.  All device formats are supported there--Kindle, Sony, Nook, etc.

It's also up at Amazon, although not free (99 cents). I think you have to join Kindle Select or something to change the price to zero or something, and I'm still working out the details on that.

Barnes and Noble...It will be up there, too, but the site that produces the ebooks has technical difficulties, and since I believe B&N is based in New York, it may well be that Hurricane Sandy is causing them some problems. If you are a Nooker (why does that sound so...hmmm.....) and can't find the ebook for download, e-mail me and I'll see if I can make it available to you at a special price after Halloween.

Anyway, enjoy!




Sunday, October 28, 2012

Emerald City Conference

Today is the last day of the Emerald City Writers Conference, which is just up I-405 from where I live, but it's still a commute when you consider that, even though I go up on a weekend, I start out at about 7:00 am and come home at about 10:30 or 11:00 pm. I keep swearing that I'll stay at the hotel each year, because I miss out on some events and even some workshops (particularly the Friday ones) but each year I don't.

Still, it's my favorite conference. If I'm not mistaken, it's the largest conference on the West Coast, but it's still small enough not to be overwhelming like the Romance Writers of America's (RWA) national conference. I get to learn what's going on in the industry, meet old friends and make new ones, and it gives me the opportunity to do something I have found over the years that I love: teaching what I know.

Friday night, I volunteered to help unpublished writers at the "Pitchfest." That's where these writers try to come up with an "elevator pitch": a short description of their story that is intriguing enough to relate to an editor or agent so that they are asked to submit their manuscripts.

Author Gina Robinson has done an online workshop of how to pitch a story for the Greater Seattle Romance Writers chapter of RWA, and this actual, "hands-on" session was coordinated by Gina and my dear friend and author Gerri Russell. They asked me to help coach these authors, and I eagerly agreed. I don't know why it is, but I love, love, love hearing about other people's stories and boiling them down to what I call "thematic hits" that powerfully convey the essence of their story. Maybe it comes naturally; I remember in college I was very much into symbolism in literature and picking out these symbols and themes to get at the underlying meaning of the story.

Well, I have to say, these three writers had some dynamite high-concept ideas that capture the zeitgeist of our nation and our world. One woman, Constance, had written a Young Adult (YA) paranormal novel. Melinda had written a straight-on SF/Fantasy romance. Monica had written a gentle contemporary romance. Yet, all addressed, symbolically and realistically, the angst and the desperate hopes that so many of us are going through in these lean and divisive years. All of them had taken the deep concerns of ordinary people and tried to answer the question of, "what do we do to make things better"?

I believe that when these three authors pitched their stories to editors and agents on Saturday morning, they received requests for submission. I believe it so strongly that I am willing to bet hard money on this. All they needed was to bring out the essence of what they were writing and say it with conviction. I hope to find out.

But, aside from learning the latest industry news and writing and publishing-related technologies and business models, this is why I come to this conference. Romance is a hopeful, yet practical genre. It doesn't look away from pain and hurt and difficulty, but takes it on with courage and a roll-up-the-sleeves-deal-with-it attitude, an attitude that--underneath it all--says that our world and our lives are worth fighting for, no matter what. That there is joy to be had and a purpose to your life, whether you are a teenager discovering that your so-called disabilities can save the world (Constance's story), or that you have a truth to tell about--and can fight against--those who are committing horrible injustices (Melinda's story), or that you can find inner strength and a road to a better life when you're down on your luck and living in a trailer park (Constance's story).

I see a lot of women here, and men as well, who believe that you don't give up, you keep working, you keep plugging on, even if it seems that the odds are against you. These are courageous people, who put that belief and courage on the page.

And honestly, that is what being a writer is all about. You don't know whether your story is going to be a success or if any editor will even look at it. But there is something inside that induces you to put out the words, put out the story, regardless.

I guess I learn from these newbies. I haven't published anything new in quite a while. I look at their courage, and it gives me that much more courage to try again.

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Location:Bellevue, WA

Thursday, October 11, 2012

The cover!




So, Kate Race from Artitudes Design has outdone herself. I received the cover for my next ebook re-release, The Vampire Viscount today. I love it!

I'll be publishing this one myself, and so am feeling a bit nervous about it. Don't get me wrong, my previous publishers have done a nice job of putting my work out there. But I do want to see what difference it makes if I upload and publish myself. It means learning some new skills, but that's fine with me; learning new stuff just makes me more marketable in the job market.

Anyway, with luck, it'll be available on Halloween...maybe even at a good introductory price. :-)


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Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Miss Carlyle's Curricle Available as eBook!

Signet is releasing many of their previously out-of-print Regencies in ebook form out of their Intermix "imprint."  (Is it really an imprint if it's not printed?  Hmm....the new dynamics of the ebook world....)  Today, my book, Miss Carlyle's Curricle is available at Penguin's Intermix site, for Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble's Nook, Sony eReader, and Amazon's Kindle, among others.  I'm happy to say that it's available at the very affordable price of $2.99.

Want to read an excerpt?  Here it is, below:

Lord Brisbane ran his hand over a curve of the carriage in a contemplative manner. He glanced at her. “I understand this McKinney has been in your uncle’s employ for many years.” It was a statement, but with just a hint of a question in it.

Diana frowned. “If you are thinking of blaming McKinney for my uncle’s accident or of discharging him from his post, I would advise against it. The man has been employed here since my uncle was a very young man, and his service has been loyal and faultless. Indeed, he felt most deeply regarding the accident and proffered his resignation, which I refused to consider.”

Lord Brisbane glanced at her. “You?”

She blushed lightly; it was not her place to accept or decline a servant’s employment unless it was her own, personal, servant. “McKinney was distraught, and Uncle Charles had said more than a few times that my word was as good as his when it came to the stables,” she said stiffly. “If you must know, I directed him to Sir James, thinking he would be the heir.”

“Ah.”

That was all he said, an unassuming sound, but it made her very conscious that she had presumed, and presumed wrongly. “Sir James will not have discharged him, I am sure,” she said.

“Mmm hmm,” he said, gazing at her thoughtfully.

Diana shifted her feet uncomfortably. “I am sure McKinney is about somewhere. You may speak to him yourself.”

“Is he?”

“But of course. I saw him—” She stopped and realized she had not seen McKinney lately. “Surely Sir James did not....”

“There may be some other explanation for why McKinney is not here,” Lord Brisbane said.

Diana made herself look at him, but she could not hold his gaze long, for remorse hit her hard. “I have presumed a great deal,” she said. “And I was wrong to do so. I...I apologize.”

“Yes,” he replied, but there was no censure in his voice. She felt a finger under her chin and she stared at him. He smiled slightly. “Come, cousin, it is no tragedy. Let us be frank: I well know that your uncle’s wish that we wed was unexpected, and highly unusual. Would it be less awkward for you to know that I had no knowledge of it? I met your uncle only a year ago, when he first found me, and because of business our subsequent meetings were infrequent. Had I known of the conditions, I would have protested, of course. I am not certain why he decided we should suit, but he did, and made it nearly impossible for you not to comply.”

“Mama said it was perhaps the closest he could come to giving me the estate...he thought of me as a daughter, almost a son, I think.” His hand left her chin, and she looked down at her hands, then up at the earl again. “Then, too, perhaps he thought it the best way to take care of me and my mother.”

“I wonder, then, that he did not give you a larger annuity.”

She shook her head. “Uncle Charles was never one to reveal his reasons, and we had never real cause to ask, for our lives had always run smoothly while he was with us. I am sure everyone on the estate thought so.”

“Which makes me seem very much the interloper, I see,” Lord Brisbane said, smiling wryly. “Making it even more difficult to see me as a prospective husband and heir to the estate.”

Diana felt definitely guilty now, but made herself look directly at him. “Yes, that is true, and I am sorry for it. My uncle was held in highest esteem by everyone; it would be difficult to accept the presence of any heir, but to have a complete stranger makes it even more difficult.”

“Held in esteem by everyone? He had no enemies? No detractors?” Lord Brisbane shook his head and put on a morose expression. “I have a great deal to live up to, indeed. Most certainly I shall fail, and the estates will fall to ruin.”

Diana cast him a suspicious look, then laughed reluctantly. “You need not try to pull the wool over my eyes, my lord. I suspect you are quite capable of managing this estate, and it is no doubt one reason my uncle saw fit to want you to marry me.”

He raised his brows in question. “And how do you know?”

“I am honest enough to admit you are more perceptive than I had given you credit for. You talked of business—I suppose you were not precisely an idle man, for your hands are not as smooth as I suppose a dandy’s might be. Since your clothes are of a fine cut, I imagine your business endeavors were successful. I suspect you were in trade; you seem to be familiar with the making of carriages, or at least woodworking of some kind. Then you mention you were familiar with illnesses and healing.” She smiled slightly. “I imagine you must be engaged in some sort of merchant shipping. Such a business would at once give a man the opportunity for making a fortune”—she gestured at his Bath superfine coat—“thus enabling him to buy whatever he wishes in clothes, and give him the opportunities to learn of ships and their construction. The illnesses and healing—one would have to be more self-reliant regarding these things if one had to travel to foreign lands.”

“Well, well.” Lord Brisbane rocked back on his heels, then smiled widely. “I congratulate you, cousin; you are correct on all points. Very perceptive. I see it would not do to underestimate you.”

Diana grinned. “You are correct, my lord, it would not. Be warned!”

“I am grateful for the warning. You are a formidable woman, to be sure. It is a good thing I had not the intention of asking you to marry me; I had a distinct feeling it would displease you.” His voice was solemn, but she thought she saw his lips turn up for a moment.

“Very wise of you not to wish to propose to me, for you would be living under the sign of the cat’s foot, and no man could wish a marriage like that.” She shrugged off the feeling of discontent—she had never had a proposal before, why should she have one now, even if it had been dictated by Uncle Charles?—and turned to leave the carriage house. Lord Brisbane moved in step with her.

“Now there, cousin, your perception has failed you.” He gave her a small, crooked smile. “I wanted to marry you the moment I saw you, and have no fear at all of being henpecked.”

Diana stumbled, and Lord Brisbane’s hand came up under her elbow to steady her. She stared at him. “You jest, surely.”

“No, alas, I do not.” His smile widened, and his normally sleepy look had fled, replaced by sparkling mischief instead.

“You are jesting, and trifling with me,” Diana said, and marched toward the house. “Do not, for I dislike it, and as you said, I am a formidable woman, and could make more trouble for you than you could like.” She could not believe him, of course, but she did not repel him with her words as she could have; an irresistable curiosity as to what he would say next stayed her.

“Behold me trembling,” Lord Brisbane said, his long legs easily keeping up with her.

“Oh, you are odious!” She eyed him sternly. “You cannot have fallen in love with me, not in such a short time.”

“Love at first sight.”

Diana blushed. “Nonsense! There is no such thing.”
Lord Brisbane sighed. “So I thought, myself. But there you were, rain-soaked and beautiful, and I was instantly lost.”

“Lost on the road, not in any other wise,” she retorted. “You are making fun of me, for none of that can be true.”

“Of course it is true. You were definitely rain-soaked.”

“Oh, and you are in the habit of falling in love with rain-soaked women, is that it?”

“Not at all,” Lord Brisbane said. “However, if a woman is beautiful, that would certainly be an incentive.”

She frowned. “Now I know you are hoaxing me. I am not at all beautiful. I am too tall for that.”

“Not for me.”

Diana looked up at him—obviously this was true. “Well. . . well, then, I am not fashionable.”

“Fashion does not make for beauty.”

“Quite the contrary,” she said. “I have had my Season in London, and know that it’s your fashionable sylph who is much feted. Fashion does indeed dictate what is beautiful.” She wrinkled her nose. “I am not sylph-like; therefore I am not beautiful.”

He cocked his head and looked at her. “No one has ever admitted admiring you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, of course not.”

“More fool they.” He shot a quick, laughing glance at her. “No doubt they were intimidated by your formidableness.”

“I am not—” She stopped and closed her mouth, belatedly remembering that she had indeed agreed she was formidable. She gave him a sour look. “Believe me, I was as meek as my Aunt Matchett could make me.”

“Impossible,” he replied. “Nothing could subdue those magnificently flashing and scornful eyes—are they gray or blue? Blue, I believe.”

“They are pale blue,” Diana said firmly. “And they neither flash nor are they scornful.”

“No? They seem to be, now.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Only because you are the most provoking man imaginable.”

Lord Brisbane shook his head mournfully. “Worse and worse. First I am odious and now I am provoking. A very good thing I decided not to propose to you; you would have refused me immediately and I would have been cast into abject despair.”

“I doubt it,” Diana replied, banishing a slight feeling of discontent. “Count yourself fortunate: I am persuaded you would not wish to marry a woman you hardly know, and I would much rather live on a pittance than marry a complete stranger.”

His lordship’s expression lightened. “How gratifying to find you are not mercenary and not looking to marry a fortune or a title. Should I ever take it in my head to propose to you, I shall do so in happy confidence that your acceptance would come from your heart.”

“And if I were to decline?”

“There would be nothing for it but I must put a period to my existence,” Lord Brisbane said cheerfully.

Diana stopped, then turned to stare at him, her hands on her hips. “My lord, I think you must be the strangest man I have ever met.”

He appeared to consider her words seriously, then shook his head. “Since your sojourn in London was so short and you have grown up in the country most of your life, I cannot think your experience of men to be very great at all.” He smiled. “I am quite normal, truly.”

He had an answer for everything it seemed, but Diana’s annoyance with him was weak at best. She smiled slightly. This conversation was indeed the most peculiar she had had with anyone, but somehow her irritation was mixed heavily with a certain exhilaration. She had never traded quick and spirited words with a man before; her conversations in London had always been awkwardly constrained or excruciatingly polite. Indeed, she noted in surprise, the awkwardness she had when she first met this new Lord Brisbane had disappeared.

“You are smiling, I see,” he said. “But I assure you, no one has ever accused me of being odd.”

“Really?” Diana could not help chuckling. “I am surprised, my lord.”

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Star Wars Opera, Part II

In Star Wars I, we meet Anakin as a child. It's fine that he's impetuous and impetuous with his raw talent--that's what children are like. But I'd like to see him start to hero-worship Qui Gon and Obi Wan, and strive to be like them in both manner and discipline. Anakin has no father, so these two men are his father figures. He would want to imitate them in all ways, because that element has so far been missing in his life.

That he leaves his mother at such a young age is of course rightfully important, as the series obviously shows. It's a loss that will stay with him and will affect his future decisions.

It concerns me that Qui Gon does nothing to free the slaves as both Anakin and Shmi hope, but I can see that it's important that he doesn't--if and only if the movie had done something with that fact, which it doesn't. And that is, in my opinion, a lack that contributes to Anakin not being a true tragic hero.

Because as Anakin grows older, he has no real noble goal. Othello at first wants to find the truth about an apparently adulterous wife and betraying friend so that he can have a just relationship to those he loves. Hamlet wants to find the truth and bring to justice his father's murderer--so much so that he won't take the word of his father's ghost at face value; he has to test it to find out for sure. All these are initially unselfish goals.

Anakin's goal...is to be a powerful Jedi. This is not really an unselfish and heroic goal.

What would have been a more noble goal? What if Anakin's desire to be a powerful Jedi had its roots in a deep desire to free not only his mother, but all of Tatooine's slaves? Who wouldn't root for a hero who wants that? What is more noble than a former slave who works hard not only to gain his mother's freedom but the freedom of all slaves?

That goal alone would have had me forgive a lot of Anakin's sins of impatience and arrogance, especially if he had harnessed his power with the discipline of both Qui Gon and Obi Wan. Yes, he was powerful, yes he had that power honed to a fine point, but it would not have been for the sheer lust for power, but for the deep love for his mother and the desire to give freedom to others. No doubt he would have not only been given a seat on the Jedi Council for this, but be a voting member as well--a high honor.

Who wouldn't have been as impatient as he would have been if the Jedi council had told him, "we sympathize with you, but now is not the time to free the slaves. You must wait"? Who wouldn't have felt compassion for him if he found he was too late to save his mother, and had failed in securing freedom for slaves? And who wouldn't have understood his motivation in turning to the Dark Side to make up for his failure, especially if the Jedi Council had said something to the effect of, "we told you so!"

That goal would have made his turn to the Dark Side and his enslavement to the Emperor in exchange for saving his mother and freeing the slaves painfully ironic, and terribly tragic. It would have made Padme's turning away from his now dark nature even more heart-rending. Anakin would have been the embodiment of the idea that "the end does not justify the means." And it would have made me even more eager to watch Star Wars IV, V, and VI in the hope that somehow Darth Vader would find some kind of redemption and eventual freedom himself.

But that didn't happen. Star Wars is not an epic opera on the scale of Wagner's Ring Cycle, or a classic tragedy on the scale of any of Shakespeare's tragic plays. And it's for this reason that I keep feeling disgruntled every time I watch Star Wars. It could so easily have been truly epic in theme and storyline instead of only in special effects, but just wasn't.

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Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Star Wars Opera, Part I - the Tragic Hero

I was watching Star Wars II and III the other night and feeling quite disgruntled as I usually do when watching these movies. And yet, I cannot look away...

The reason is that because I am a writer, whenever a story irks me, I start taking it apart and figuring out how it could have worked. This may seem like arrogance on my part--who am I, after all, compared to George Lucas?--but writing and storytelling is my trade, and my education included analysis of great books and stories. It's not dissing Shakespeare if you analyze Romeo and Juliet to see how it works and why. Or even why it works for you and why it doesn't.

But I think that though the movies are fairly entertaining, if a few things had changed, Star Wars I, II, and III could have been a classic epic tragedy on a Shakespearean scale. It could even have been translated into a Wagnerian opera akin to the Ring Cycle. I mused briefly on this during my lunch hour on Facebook, and Emilie Storrs, an opera singer, mentioned the potentially Wagnerian aspect of the series.  She is quite right.

The thing about classic operatic tragedies, however, is that like classic stage plays, the characters must be bigger than life, and it must be clear that they encapsulate some very noble characteristics as well as some serious tragic flaws.  They must have tragic heroes/heroines.

In classic tragedy, the hero of the piece is generally a good person, but has a fatal flaw that propels him to eventual destruction of body, mind, and/or soul.
If you look at Shakespeare's Othello, for example, Othello is basically a good man. He is courageous and has integrity. You know he is because he is admired for those characteristics even amongst people who are not of his own race or country, so much so that he is given a position of great responsibility, which causes the villainous Iago to become envious and plot his destruction. However, Othello's fatal flaw is jealousy, so that it overwhelms his good sense and  and propels him to destroy, ultimately, all that he loves, including himself. Yet, Othello is clearly a man in charge, who knows how to command respect until his fatal flaw overcomes him. In the end, you grieve that such a man is destroyed; he was noble and good once, a man of honor, until he let his jealousy get the best of him.

I wish I could say the same of Anakin Skywalker. It's clear to me that his impatience arises out of an extreme need to prove himself, which is the essence of arrogance. That, in turn evolves into Anakin creating a shield of invulnerability around him, a shield made of a need to protect himself from any idea that he may be weak or unable to control his environment. And if, in the end, it means accusing those who love him as being his enemies, so be it.

All along, it's pointed out that he has the talent, but not the discipline or the patience to become, for example, a full member of the Jedi council. He is, in essence, immature and remains so until we see him as Darth Vader in Star Wars IV. He can love, it's true. But it's a childish love, not a fully adult love.

Even as the adult Darth Vader, it's clear he's as impetuous and easily manipulated as a child; he is a slave to the Emperor Palpatine until the very end of Star Wars VI. Darth Vader is clearly powerful, more powerful than Palpatine. Why doesn't he ever strike out on his own? Even become an Emperor himself? He could. He has the natural power.

The immaturity persists. In essence, Anakin never really grows up. His death in the end is the death of a stunted child in a broken man's body.

What would Anakin Skywalker as a true tragic hero look like? What would make a noble and fully-adult Anakin turn against the Jedi?



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Sunday, May 20, 2012

How I write

Argh! My computer is in the shop now--I haven't been able to log onto the thing since Friday, hence the late response to "Ask Me Anything" Friday.

But, thank goodness for my iPad. Why I didn't think to use it earlier, I don't know. Duh. Anyway....

Anna H commented (via Facebook):

When noodling the idea for a new book, how detailed do you get, initially? I mean, do you outline the basic plot and characters and go from there, or do you have a germ of an idea and let it grow, taking you where it will?


I'm what's known as a "pantzer"--I usually go by the seat of my pants, or, as you say, I have a germ of an idea, let it grow, and then I go where it leads me. At the same time, I'm very conscious of a sense of structure underlying whatever it is that comes up. I know a story is ready and will work if I have that sense of structure, and most of the time, I find out it's sort of archetypal in nature, that is, I can usually find a myth or a fairy tale in the middle of it.

I don't mean something like Cinderella, although that did come up once (more like "Cinderfella"), and it didn't hit me until about half-way through the book what it actually was.

It all sounds rather disorganized, but to put a better word on it, it's "organic." :-)

That said, it's often helpful for me by the half-way point in the book to look back at what I've written already and see how well the story is structured. I use a five-point structure to analyze the story. If the story hits the right points in the structure give or take a page or two, then I know the pacing is going to be pretty solid.

Sometimes, I don't analyze the structure until I'm almost done, or even after I'm done. One of the dangers of analyzing too soon is that I lose the flow of the story, or I end up second-guessing myself, and I've come to learn that second-guessing myself is not a good thing. I really do have to trust that the Muse knows what she wants to say and to let her say it, no matter how odd or crazy it may seem. Or scares me silly. Seriously, there have been times I've thought while in the process of writing, "are you NUTS? NOBODY will buy this, it's way too out there." I remember thinking this back in 1995 when I had a vampire hero in a Regency England-set romance. Yeah, kind of a Jane Austen meets Dracula thing (not actually Jane Austen, but just imagine if one of Jane Austen's heroines had an arranged marriage with a vampire. Yeah, like that).

Years later, everyone was doing that kind of thing, so hey, not so crazy.

So these days, if the Muse gives me a crazy, irresistible idea, I try to go with it, because chances are good everyone will be doing it a few years later. :-) This happens a lot to me.

Which is why, when people ask me what trend they should be writing to, I tell them, whatever story grabs you and won't let you go, THAT'S the trend. Because chances are pretty good that if you're writing something that grabs you by the throat and won't let go, your Muse is telling you what will be the next big thing, and that you need to write it before it passes.